Bangkok Confidential (closed for siobhancan99)

[ericrodman101]

When Henry Dalton stepped onto the tarmac, the tropical air slapped him in the face. He was tired after the flight and the line moved sluggishly towards the terminal. His hand luggage suddenly weighed a ton.

View attachment 2166822

Bangkok. Thailand. Asia. If only they felt as exotic under the oppressive sun as they did in the planning. But it was only an airport, he reasoned, and only the weather suggested he was in the tropics and not anywhere in the world. Airports were the least stimulating way to enter a country. They all looked the same.

It was Saturday. The college had advised they wouldn't be able to greet him, so he planned to make his own way to the apartment the college had arranged, rest a bit, then look around the city. Monday would come soon enough when he would introduce himself to his new employers, The American University of Thailand. What a place to be teaching English literature. The world was full of surprises. Who'd have thought he would be teaching here.

But why not? Bangkok was as good as anywhere. Better. A new beginning. A sanctuary. A bolt hole. Did it matter how he described it, to himself and to others? He was here and the trouble was behind him on the other side of the world. Thank Christ!

But it wasn't behind him. Henry had enough self awareness to know as one sordid door closed, another opened. Trouble followed him. Or he managed to find it wherever he went. And was it trouble? Or just his nature? He hadn't been charged. The college hadn't dismissed him. It hadn't even made the papers although social media had been wild for a while. No, like sensible adults they'd negotiated a mutually agreeable outcome. His apartment was rented, his possessions were in storage, his next semester students were looked after, and as for the other players....the young people involved...well, they were all eighteen, and some of them were already in contact with him by email, seeking his advice, his reassurance, his new address.

The rules about faculty student fraternization were ridiculously outdated however you examined them. The American University of Thailand had similar rules, he noted, when he reviewed the contract. Who first said rules were made to be broken? Some over-sexed libertine like him, Henry mused.

He stepped into the terminal building, enjoying the air conditioned blast after the oven of the tarmac. Why the fuck hadn't he moved to the front of the plane and exited via the air bridge? The relative coolness inside just accentuated how warm he felt. Perspiration coursed inside his cotton shirt. He stopped to undo his top button, then a second, opening his shirt. It made him recall the neckties he'd packed for the trip. Did anyone wear a tie in this climate? Not if he looked about. Even the uniformed guards and airport officials were tieless. It was a casualness he might enjoy, he thought. That was what he'd gleaned about Thailand. Sure it was a traditional culture, a monarchy, authoritarian in some respects. But in personal matters, he understood it to be casual. Yes, that was the word. Not liberated so much as casual. Maybe that was simply how the locals lived with the heat.

Personal matters. The phrase brought his attention back to the incident. Well, incidents really. The line at immigration moved slowly. He opened his passport. Unlike most people, Henry thought his mugshot did him justice. Thick dark hair fashionably cut, clear skin, smoky eyes, square jaw, just a hint of a smile but sufficiently slight so as not to upset whoever approved passport photographs. Yes, Henry Dalton, 38, born Houston Texas, Professor of English Literature, divorced, no children, bisexual, is a handsome man, he thought. He handed his passport to a beautiful young Thai woman, long dark hair, thick lips, skin like honey. She examined his face without expression, then stamped the passport. The baggage carousel and Asia lay ahead.

 

[siobhancan99]

The baggage claim was mercifully cool, though Henry would note there wasn't a soul there buttoned up, and certainly not wearing a jacket. Bags collected he stepped out into a wall of impenetrable humidity. The air didn't so much cling to him like a humid night in the States, as resist his very moving through it. While Texas was hot, it wasn't so oppressively muggy. The air smelled wrong as well. Not unpleasant, but wrong. The subtle scent of water and vegetation permeated everything. The heat sapped the will and the air was almost difficult at first to breathe.

Cabbies vied for his attention, calling out that for 500 Bhat he could be downtown in no time. He'd been forewarned, however, that the best way to get around southeast Asia was an app called Grab. He'd summoned a car, and for only 250 Thai Bhat he was on his way into the heart of Bangkok. The university had procured him an apartment. At first they'd offered the Silom district, but he'd settled on a Chinatown apartment with a nice view of the river. At 30,000 THB it was a steal on his salary. A spacious two bedroom with an unobstructed view of the river and a terrace. 15 floors up it wouldn't have any of the street noise, but he was still just an elevator ride away from the culture and nightlife of the Chinatown neighborhood. It was not as conveniently located for class, but everything was a trade-off. Compromise was the order of the day.

The driver, a young Thai man that the app said was named Chai-Son greeted him in both Thai Mandarin and then looking at the app, in thickly accented English. After settling on the notion that the car was cool enough, they sat in companionable silence as the landscape blew by. The young man was briskly efficient, helping disgorge Henry's bags onto the sidewalk outside his apartment, then whisked off no doubt to the next ride. As Henry contemplated those parts of his life that made the trip on the plane, and how he would wrestle it all up to his apartment he heard a voice that he recognized from a few grainy zoom meetings.

"Doctor Dalton?"

He turned to find one of his graduate students, a doctoral candidate named Miranda Thornton. Curvy without being fat, though certainly not in the kind of shape his undergrads had been in. Who is though, after you turn 21? She had dark hair tied up in a sloppy bun to keep it off her sweaty neck. Large gray eyes looked out at him through thick glasses. She was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, and had clearly been waiting for a bit from the sweat on her neck and brow. "I thought you'd be earlier. Dr. Saetang sent me over with your keys." She picked up one of his bags "shall we get in out of the heat Dr. Dalton?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Miranda Thornton. Of course. Henry had seen her file, and remembered her photo at least. But not her subject. English Lit, of course. That's what all the grad student files said. A mix of locals and foreigners like him. Mostly young. He tried to guess Miranda's age, smiling and thanking her as she let him into the building.

"I wasn't expecting anyone, he said. "Not on the weekend."

He followed her into the building towards the elevators. She carried one of his bags. The one with his laptop. For a moment he imagined the immigration officer opening his laptop and asking him to boot it up. But then his material was all locked securely. It would need more than airport immigration to find it. And besides, Thailand was the home of brother love bromance. And the bars on Patpong Road. Girls, boys, ladyboys, anything you could imagine. Or couldn't. What did an American woman like Amanda Thornton make of the laissez faire attitude the Thais had to sex and sex tourism? Did western women find anything in Thailand they couldn't get elsewhere.

The building was well air conditioned. Almost immediately his chest where he'd opened his shirt felt cold. He examined Miranda to see how she was faring. Shorts. T-shirt. Hair tied back. Lots of flesh on display. Sweaty flesh. She turned as the elevator door opened and he realized she knew he was scrutinizing her.

"The cool air is a sudden change after the humidity outside," he said. "I wonder how long it takes to get used to it. There's a swimming pool, yes? We can have a drink by the pool and you can tell me what brings you to Thailand."

 

[siobhancan99]

Miranda was about 5'8, and if he had to guess pushing 145-150 lbs. She wasn't fat, just on the soft side of average. She had the sort of body that would be cast as a lesbian milf in a movie. Wide hips and a round ass that looked like it would have a nice shake to it, or a good bounce if she was in his lap. Her breasts were somewhere on the cusp of a C or a D, depending on whether she sized the band properly or not. In the arctic air of the elevator, thick nipples swelled against her t-shirt, announcing the lack of a bra beneath. In this heat, wearing one would probably be miserable. Her stomach wasn't exactly flat, he could tell by the way the sweaty T clung to her, but it was flat enough. She was a solid seven, who would be an 8 if she hit the gym more and ate pad thai less.

Her face was the real attraction. Classical features. High cheekbones, large grey eyes the color of a stormy sky. Despite all the sun here her skin was milky white, and her lips despite the lack of makeup had a rosy hue. They were plump and pouty, soft and inviting like they were made to be kissed, or made to kiss something. Her hair was dark and thick and full. It had to be miserable in the heat and humidity of Bangkok, which was likely why it was tied up.

She turned and caught his scrutiny and blushed red, though he realized after a moment she had been scrutinizing him in the reflection of the mirror-polished elevator walls.

"there is a pool. with a bar. I'd have to change into a suit. There's one in my bag. I was going to meet my girlfriend earlier but she got held up."

A strange word, girlfriend. American girls used it to mean paramour or just "girl who is my friend" with the same casualness it was impossible to tell what they meant. Of course if she had a girlfriend in the former sense, she would just be par for the course in the liberal arts. It seemed to be part of the application. He vaguely recalled one of the students he was on the dissertation committee for was writing something about intersectionality and bisexual coding in the novels of the 1920s. Maybe it was her. Maybe not. Still, girlfriend or not she had definitely been looking.

 

[ericrodman101]

So Miranda Thornton had a girlfriend. American? Thai? Just one?

She unlocked his apartment and stepped inside. It must have been jet lag, but it didn't occur to him how odd it was that she went inside first, handling the keys, opening the door and then the curtains as if she'd been here before and meant to come again.

"The pool it is then," he said, stretching, then bending over and touching his toes. It reminded him that he needed to keep fit, to recommence his fitness regime as soon as possible. Just like Ms Thornton, he wasn't getting any younger. "Do you want to freshen up and change first?" he said, gesturing to the open door through which he could see the bathroom.

Henry stepped over to the window. Smoggy Bangkok stretched out before him, an unfamiliar mix of western architecture and Asian, roads, canals, bridges, shining glass and rusting roofs. He listened as she moved into the bathroom. She'd blushed, hadn't she? In the elevator. When he'd examined her. Young girls blushed. Undergraduates. But graduates like Miranda Thornton? Mature women who had girlfriends? Did they blush? He smiled, the memory of the blush touching and tantalizing him. All that flesh on display, and changing now to join him in the pool for a drink. And she blushed.

The thought of fucking Miranda Thornton flashed through his head. It always did. It was where his mind went. Like every man with a pulse, he rationalized. She wasn't his type. Older. Heavier. Voluptuous. He liked them young and thin and breakable. Girls and boys. Pliant. But Miranda Thornton was here and naked in his bathroom. Did she fuck men?

And she said 'suit'. She carried a swimsuit in her bag. But 'suit'? Not bikini or thong or.... No, suit, was fine. He just hoped it wasn't some industrial costume, all elastic and reinforcing and cover-all. And he planned to wear the speedo. It was hot. He was tired. This was a new city, a new place where no one knew him. And he meant to impress. To make his mark. The black speedo.

Henry turned and opened his case as Miranda Thornton emerged from the bathroom.

 

[siobhancan99]

She emerged with her clothes stuffed in a bag, and a black bikini. As he'd guessed she was attractive, just a little soft. She caught his scrutiny and swallowed "uh. yeah I uh. The suit is new. I wasn't sure it would fit. I lost 40 lbs this year." That might explain the blush. She wasn't used to this kind of scrutiny from men. "I figure another 10 but. Uh. Anyway" She looked around the apartment a bit, clearly feeling the weight of his gaze on her. Her skin was flush and her breathing was just a touch faster than would be normal. "I uh. Wasn't sure if you drank or not but I prepared the bar. The university is always having parties so I just grabbed whatever bottles it seemed weren't opened at the last event and brought them over."

She looked him over again, eyes flicking along his lean form. She clearly approved of what she saw "It's not a great idea to day drink here though unless you're going to drink plenty of water. You should always have a bottle of water on you, wherever you go. Also sunscreen is a must. Even in winter. even when it is cloudy" She got a huge bottle out "I really... um since you're my advisor, sort of hesitate to ask but when we get up to the pool or before we go up I'm going to need your help if I don't want to fry out there."

 

[ericrodman101]

Henry admired Miranda's audacity at simply standing there in front of a strange man virtually naked. Not that he should be surprised. That was modern life. All the sad, cruel, stultifying strictures on bodies and nakedness and free expression which had been drummed into him as a child in Texas were gone. The veil had lifted. Everyone was free to express themselves however they wished. It was the credo he lived by so why wouldn't others? But the contrast with his Baptist upbringing in Houston always clanged in his head. All that kneeling and praying and keeping your desires inside. All that denial. All that twisting yourself out of shape.

Miranda Thornton was beautiful. Her skin clad her body comfortably, folding and tucking, from her ample breasts down her nearly taut stomach to her fleshy thighs. And she was nervous. Henry liked that. So the weight loss had led her to try out ever smaller bikinis, he mused. Good for her. And she planned on downsizing some more. He longed to ask her what swimsuit she had in mind next.

"The bar? Here or at the pool?" he asked as she held out a bottle of sunscreen. Miranda was no shrinking violet. She wanted him to apply sunscreen to her, nearly naked, in his private apartment. He enjoyed her hesitation at asking, but it was only a ruse, surely? Only a coyness which barely disguised her true intentions?

"No one wants to fry." Henry laughed, taking the bottle from her hand. "Sure, but only if you agree to applying it to me."

He took the bottle and the black speedo with him into the bathroom. For a moment he imagined undressing in front of her, but maybe that was a bridge too far. Still, two could play at the tiny black swimsuit game.

 

[siobhancan99]

Miranda swallowed and nodded "uh. yeah. sure."

When he emerged she wasn't looking. She'd poured some sort of clear liquor over ice and was sipping it by the giant window that covered the whole wall of his apartment, offering him a spectacular view of the city. "the windows polarize so if its too much at night you can press a button and the room goes black" She said, loud enough for him to hear and showing that she was aware that he'd exited the bathroom. She turned and cleared her throat "And I thought my suit was small." Her eyes roamed, though she kept them at least above the waist.

She stepped forward "well. Uh. lets get you uh. You know." She looked down at her hands and grabbed the sunscreen "turn around for me?" her hands slick with the slick substance she started running her hands along his skin. At first just being thorough, getting a good coating on, but after a moment it was clear she was lingering. Pressing in a little harder than need be. Really getting a feel for his toned back "So you really work out huh?" She shifted her weight behind him, and he could feel the subtle change in the pressure of her hands against him. She ran them along his triceps, her fingers gentle but clearly exploring a little bit. He could feel the slightest tremble in them, but they were getting a little more sure as her hands slid down back along his back to the small of it. "Uh. you can probably get your legs right? or do you want me to do it?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Henry knew he was a good looking man. He was a classic narcissist, but why shouldn't he be? He worked hard to keep his 38 year old body firm and fit. And able to be displayed. Miranda would understand that, as someone who'd lost weight and now wore the revealing black bikini for him, and for others no doubt.

But he was a little miffed to find her standing facing the window, her back to him, when he emerged from the bathroom. It denied him making the entrance his inner narcissist craved.

Still, when she turned, drink in hand, the look on her face was sufficient reward. Not to mention her commenting on the smallness of his swimsuit.

Henry analyzed a few scenarios. Sunscreen, pool, drink, fuck. Or the reverse order. Or just fuck. He was still thinking it over when she picked up the sunscreen and asked him to turn around. The feel of her hands on his skin banished his overthinking. 'Just fuck' flashed through his head. Fuck her now.

Still, there were always preliminaries, not least because they'd only just met. Although he felt confident that if he simply threw her on the bed, Miranda wouldn't resist. Yet, why the bed? He rebuked himself for such vanilla thinking. This woman wasn't standing nearly naked, running her hands over his body, contemplating the missionary position.

He turned around, facing her as she reached down to the elastic at the top of his speedos.

"You can probably get your legs right?" She asked it as a question. "Or do you want me to do it?"

For a moment Henry considered not responding, but simply slipping his cock out and pushing her head, those pouty lips, down to meet it. She must be able to see he was already hardening. But this was a professor student thing. And everything said verbalize, find consensus, gain consent. It was a fucking stupid arrangement for mature adults to have to negotiate, but it was the law at home, and best practice here too, he guessed. If he'd been transacting with an escort in a bar, then no. But Miranda Thornton he'd have to see and supervise however today turned out.

"I want you to do it," he said.

 

[siobhancan99]

Soft hands ran along the back of his legs, getting his hamstrings and calves good and coated. She moved around front, kneeling in front of him, trying very hard not to stare at the obvious bulge of his impressive cock, straining at the tiny piece of material trying to tuck everything inside of it.

She was scarlet as she worked, getting the tops of his feet and then his shins, working all the way up, her hands grazing along his toned quads to the very edge of his bikini line. Her fingers traced it, dangerously close to his cock. She stood, looking him in the eye. She held that gaze for a moment, then get more suntan lotion on her hands, slowly working it into his pecs. Her look was a mixture of thirst and nervousness, and she chewed slightly at her lower lip before pulling away, embarrassed "I guess you uh. Probably could have gotten that yourself."

She turned away from him, brushing her thick dark hair over her shoulder to expose her ivory neck. She straightened, trying to present her back to him "do me?" She asked, then coughed "I mean, you know, apply some sunscreen to me? Not you know. Do me. I mean uh. yeah." she shifted from foot to foot, and he could see her round ass straining at the bikini as if it wanted to burst free of it. "Do you want me to fix you a drink or anything?"

 

[ericrodman101]

Henry put his hands on Miranda's shoulders and turned her round to face him.

"I think it might be time to cut the crap, don't think you think? I mean, before we run out of sunscreen."

He tried hard to work out if this was all an act or if the nearly naked Miranda, who had just spent way too long rubbing lotion onto his body, was really as nervous as she was trying to sound. Nervous and blushing, coughing and shifting her feet, yet standing here in next to nothing and only too willing to massage him.

"I don't want you to fix me a drink," he said, "but I could go for anything...and I'm dying to know if there's a tan line under that bikini."

 

[siobhancan99]

Miranda was really that nervous, and she sputtered a moment, then her face darkened "Well... for one..." she shifted "I don't even have a tan! So how could I have tan lines? and I'm..." She paused, as she was about to say she was gay, but she wasn't. She was confronted by his gorgeous nearly nude maleness and quite frankly, since it had been a long time since someone approaching as hot as him had been interested. Her girlfriend was sweet. She was loving. She had all the right kinds of progressive politics for a liberated bisexual American girl. She did not look like the fine ass man from Crazy Rich Asians. "I should slap you." The last part said with a lot less confidence "I should go." The last part said with no confidence at all. She swallowed, hovering a moment, then finally started to turn a bit, leaving him a window to do whatever he might.

 

[ericrodman101]

“Miranda,” Henry said as she turned, leaning down to whisper in her ear. Except it wasn’t a whisper, but deeper, menacing. “You’re going to kneel down in front of me, take my cock out of my speedos, and blow me. And then I’m going to rip off your bikini, throw you on the bed and fuck you senseless.”

He watched her stop in her tracks and placing a hand on her side, felt her flinch under his touch. Was it a good idea to scare her, his prospective student, on his first day in Bangkok? Good idea or not, he’d said it now. She could run from the room or object or slap him or.....just do as she was fucking told.

But for the moment Miranda just stood there, in front of him, quivering. He lifted his hand from her shoulder and undid the sloppy bun, her dark hair falling just as untidily down her back. It was clear to him that she wasn’t going anywhere.

”So just be the good little slut you always intended to be when you came here with me and changed into your bikini, and suck my fucking cock.”

 

[siobhancan99]

The look of shock on her face indicated she hadn't come up her for sex, and she hadn't really ever been talked to like that. There was also a look like... something in her craved being talked to like that. To be objectified. She sputtered a moment, but slowly got down on her knees. Her hand stroked his cock till it forced its way free of his tiny mankini. "wow." she swallowed, eyes on it. She looked up at him then, again her best feature was that face, big gray eyes stared up at him and she took her glasses off, letting him really see them. They were flecked here and there with green, and they held his gaze as her soft lips dragged along his shaft "its been a long time." she confessed.

One soft hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking him with loose fingers, dragging up and down as she got him fully hard. She sucked softly at his balls, her full lips gently pulling at the sensitive skin. She shifted a little "so you know. uh. any pointers..." she flicked her tongue along his balls experimentally, then brushed his cock along her lips before closing her eyes. She steeled herself for a moment, and he could practically feel her pushing the guilt down before she sucked him into her mouth. Warm and soft and wet, she enveloped him. She took him deep then slid up so just the head was in her mouth. Her tongue worked around the head, swirling slowly, building confidence a little, then she slid slowly down, taking him as deep as she dared before dragging her soft lips back up the shaft of his cock.

Her hand remained loosely wrapped around the shaft, her fingers tugging at the base of it, stroking in time with the slow movement of her mouth as she took him in, getting used to the feel of an actual dick in her mouth for the first time in years and years.

 

[ericrodman101]

Uncharacteristically, Henry stood still, almost passive, and let Miranda suck his cock however she wanted. He was tired from the flight and the heat, and still not sure what this woman was doing looking after him. But she was here, nearly naked, in his room. And he was hard. And so far she hadn't really objected to anything despite the feigned reluctance and the story about being a lesbian. She said girlfriend, didn't she, he thought. And she said it had been a long time.

Miranda was slow and gentle. It's one way to suck a cock, he thought, happy to just go with it, at least until he needed to take control in order to maximize his gratification. He looked hard into her eyes, waiting for the ecstasy that might cause him to throw his head back. But she was not that kind of cocksucker. Her eye contact was largely unbroken, those big gray, green eyes fixed mostly on his as she unveiled him, examined him with her tongue, flicking and teasing, then sucking him inside. Just the head. He might have punched himself inside her at that moment, taking her by surprise, as far inside as he could reach without taking her head in his hands and forcing entry. He liked to dominate someone sucking his cock. It was one of his 'things'.

But something about Miranda made him hold his fire. It wasn't how she looked. Henry preferred nubile younger people, girls and boys, on the end of his cock. And it wasn't really how she sucked him, so slow and tentative, as if she was trying to recover a long lost memory of cocksucking from somewhere deep down in her brain.

And then Miranda surprised him, taking him deep, dragging him inside her mouth, before he was ready. Before she was ready, he felt. Like plunging into cold water. He gasped, his body jolting, even as she slid her mouth back just as unexpectedly.

And then Miranda found her rhythm, taking him deep again, her nose in his pubic hair, and out before he could find the back of her mouth with his cock tip. And back in again. Deep. Henry threw his head back.

 

[siobhancan99]

He could hear the faint gag when his cock pushed back, cutting off her air. He could see the small moment of panic in her eyes, she honestly seemed to have forgotten how to handle it. She started to swallow then, when he was fully in her, getting a little more comfortable. She moved faster, sliding her soft full lips along his cock. He could see the flush of her arousal in her cheeks, the hangdog look of shame in her eyes as well as she gobbled her first cock in some time. Her lips were silken pillows, wrapped softly around his thick shaft. Her tongue, tentative at first found its footing, massaging the underside of his cock. Brushing the head of it in circles when she pulled nearly back. Her hand found his balls, cradling and supporting them as she moved faster, perhaps spurred on by regret, perhaps a desire to get a mouthful of him. Maybe a little of both.

She pulled off "is that alright?" trying for a little feedback, but didn't wait for his reply. Understanding that the pause itself was not what anyone wanted. She took him back in her mouth, fucking him with it, keeping her strokes steady, her cheeks pulled in to wrap warm and soft and wet around his thick shaft. Her big grown eyes searched his face for approval, and he could see her one hand drift down between her legs for a moment before she remembered herself and gripped his shaft again, using both hands to try to please him. She bobbed her head, going a little faster, fucking him with her mouth and hand now as if her doctoral dissertation might pop out of his cock at the end, fully written, if she just did a good enough job. More eager than expert, she was at least really finding her footing.

 

[ericrodman101]

Henry looked down when Miranda spoke. 'Is that alright?' Jesus fucking Christ? Just suck it, he thought. Don't ask for feedback. But mercifully, Miranda took Henry's cock straight back into her mouth. He looked hard into her eyes. She was unfamiliar with cocks in her mouth, he realized. And in her cunt? He would soon find out, he guessed.

When he pushed hard and deep, he felt her gag. Just the slightest check, a tiny resistance as she choked and swallowed. It spurred him on, the feeling that with each gag she would take him inside a little deeper, a little further into her mouth, into the top of her throat. Henry pictured his cock head, neatly cut, oozing precum, docking with her oesophagus, sealing against the sides of the pipe, trapping the spit and drool pooling in the back of her mouth, making her cough instinctively, the muscles tightening and relaxing, the throat widening, draining the liquid, her swallowing and the process starting again.

Some people, girls and guys, were born cock swallowers. Some had to learn. Miranda was learning, with each gentle push, but less gentle each time. He reached out his hands to cup the back of her head.

 

[siobhancan99]

Miranda gagged when he pushed her head down. She panicked again, her eyes wide as she stared up at him, her body screaming for air even though she wasn't in any real danger after only losing the ability to breathe for a second or so. She pushed back, keeping him in her mouth but not in her throat, only to feel him push her down again. She swallowed over and over, starting to get the feel of it, but at the same time gave his balls an overly firm squeeze, as if to remind him they were in her hand. Still, as she swallowed, her throat did relax a bit, and he was able to push a little. Each time she did exhibit signs of that panic, but as she pulled off him she breathed, and was starting to get the timing of it as he mouth fucked her, picking up instinctively on when to get her air, submissively letting him use the exquisite softness of her mouth. She kept her cheeks pulled in, wrapping them around his girthy cock like a pussy. Her tongue lavished attention on his shaft and head when he pulled back to let her breathe, and her hand pumped him faster into her mouth.

 

[ericrodman101]

Henry could feel Miranda losing a little control. Lack of air, he guessed. Her mild distress stimulated him. He was in control, not that she showed any signs of giving up. He could feel her swallowing, not just his cock, but gallons of saliva, uncontrollably, nervously, failing to get on top of her body's instinctive rejection of accepting something so big in her throat. It just made him push harder.

But still she was good. Her panic didn't stop her licking his cock, working her way up and down the shaft, round the head, even opening the slit with the tip of her tongue. He ceased pumping with his hips when he felt her tongue right on the tip of his cock, letting her find the mark and worm inside. He tried sounding once, having seen it on a video. It was no fun on his own and he wondered if Miranda might like to perform on him sometime.

All these thoughts of perverse sexual practices drove him closer to orgasm, but he didn't want to cum so quickly.

"Time for a break, honey," he said, pulling himself out until his cock hung in front of her eyes. He held himself there, enjoying her regaining her breath and a little composure as his cockhead slapped her nose. "Time for me to give something back."

He pulled Miranda onto her feet, then turned her round and pushed her onto the bed, face up.

"Let's get those bikini bottoms off," he said, sweeping them down her thighs and over her feet in one go. He spread her legs and gazed at her pussy. As he contemplated eating her out it suddenly occurred to him that as a lesbian, he might come up second best in a comparison with her other lovers. Performance anxiety was alien to Henry, and the momentary hesitation sat poorly with his self regard. But he keep his eyes fixed on her her face, smiling, as he lowered his mouth to her cunt.

 

[siobhancan99]

Miranda seemed swept up in his charisma, or whatever it was and despite her look of wanting to bite his dick off for choking her, she had a flush like she hadn't been fucked like this... wanted like this... for some time, despite having a girlfriend. She worried her thick lip with even white teeth and then peeled off her top. She revealed the massive round globes of her impressive chest. Thick nipples jutted proudly into the icy air of the cold apartment, hard from the temperature and certainly her evident arousal. Lifting her hips she let him pull her bottoms down and off, revealing a pristine white pussy. Waxed, she was hairless below the neck. Her lips below were as plump as the ones on her face, beckoning with the pleasing curve and poutyness of them. He could smell her arousal thick in the air as he lowered himself to the treasure between her legs. "well. Let's see what you've got." It was a bit of a challenge, like 'what's a man going to do for me' but in reality, she knew that a skilled man was every bit as good as a skilled woman. While women were certainly better on average, there was just only so much skill a person could have. She was ready to accept the potential that he'd be good at it, if needing some proof of the actuality.

One hand ran down, running over her pouty lips, spreading them with two to reveal a large clit peeking out from under its hood. She stroked it softly, then let her hand fall away so he could tend to her. Her hands cupped her ample tits, her fingers roughly pinching and tugging her thick nipples, pulling hard enough to lift a heavy breast. She gasped, inhaling and then letting out a soft moan "let us see if a man can eat pussy." She figured goading him might inspire him. or not. If he sucked she could just offer to blow him again. Or let him fuck her tits or something. Guys had always wanted to do that when she was an undergrad.

 

[ericrodman101]

Henry smiled. After the tropical heat outside, the air conditioned apartment was nearly too cold. He fitted his head neatly against her shaved cunt, and placed his hands up where he could twist her hard nipples in his fingers, finding her own fingers there before him. She squirmed invitingly beneath him. Shaved and smooth. Fuck, he thought. Is that what lesbians do? And there was I thinking they were all hairy armpits and shadows on their top lips. He licked and sucked greedily at her thick pussy lips, trying hard to banish any thoughts of how he compared with her female lovers. Her free hand teased her clitoris, touching his tongue and her sex, smearing her juices round his mouth and into her folds where he could search it out with the tip of his tongue.

'Can a man eat pussy?' he heard her ask, distantly, as if to no one in particular. His mouth was too full to respond, but he understood the challenge. They might never fuck again after today, but he wanted to make sure she never felt the need to ask the question again.

 

[siobhancan99]

Miranda tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging his face in against her slick pussy. She felt him probing around her entrance, and that was fun a bit as a warmup. She was enjoying it and when it was time to really get down to it, if she had to be vocal she would be. She looked down at him, those big gray eyes drinking in the half of his gorgeous face that she could still see. One hand toyed with a nipple as she let him attack the other breast. Her thick thighs latched to either side of his head, conspiring with the hand locked in the roots of his hair to trap him against her slickness. She moaned encouragement, wanting him to continue to explore. she curled a bit, then grabbed a pillow and leaned back against it so she could more easily watch him devour her shaved sex. She purrred "you don't look half bad down there. For a man." The second part said teasingly, jokingly. She ground softly against his lips, then relaxed, letting him show her what he had. "Go on then."

 

[ericrodman101]

“Go on then,” Miranda said, her hands in Henry’s hair, her pussy lips grinding his face. The college professor was in no position to make a verbal reply, but he continued exploring his grad student with his tongue, traversing her folds, uncovering her clitoris, opening her hole, stretching as far as he could, straining to impress, tasting her, smearing her goo and his spit across her shaved flesh. She was in his mouth now. In his nose. Maybe his eyes. They stung. But this was his challenge now. This woman who came onto him, feigned surprise when he responded, played hard to get, admitted to a lesbian lover, and now let him invade and pleasure her, all the while mouthing ambiguous encouragement. Oh Miranda, he thought, using his fingers to open her wider, why are you really here?

 

[siobhancan99]

Miranda moaned "put your fingers in me and suck on my clit. That's what gets me off" She took her fingers, making a curling motion where he could see it. She closed her eyes and arched a little, her impressive chest straining skyward, then she settled. She bit her lip, moaning, feeling his mouth build her up. Her grip in the roots of his hair was like iron, and she pulled him in against her slick pussy, grinding against his mouth, seeking to get his tongue on her clit "Suck on my clit" she repeated "Im close. I'm real fucking close." Her free hand cupped a breast, tugging harshly at a nipple, getting rough with herself as she approached orgasm.

 

[ericrodman101]

When Miranda told him what to do to make her cum, Henry had a little epiphany. Accustomed as he was to being the older, experienced man fucking the younger, naive person, usually a student, girl or boy, he didn’t ask for instructions nor wait to be told. His sex life generally consisted of choosing who he wanted to fuck, and fucking them. It was a sex life mostly of total control. Sometimes things went off the rails or took an unexpected turn, but when it happened he fell back on his authority or the fact that they were in his office or apartment, to regain the upper hand.

So when Miranda the lesbian gripped his hair, ground his face into her pussy, and told him what got her off, he suddenly felt like emasculated, the little boy trying to please Momma. It was unfamiliar territory for Henry and for the first time in a long time, he experienced a flight response. Yet given that Miranda had him locked into position, flight was not an option. And besides, he was hard, and she was close, and for all the strange emotions washing through his system, he had his tongue on her clitoris and his fingers inside her cunt. They weren’t going anywhere.

Henry finger fucked her, pushing deep, turning and twisting and stretching, making sure she knew he was inside. And he flicked her clitoris with his tongue, pushing and probing and teasing, feeling her catch her breath, tense and relax and tense again, her chest heaving, her lower torso damp with perspiration against his forehead. His feeling of control returned.

’Cum for me, lesbian,’ he thought to himself.